


The Candle Burns Not For Us

by enoughtotemptme



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, grounder!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enoughtotemptme/pseuds/enoughtotemptme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Quint tries to murder Clarke in the forest, Lexa assigns her a guard for protection. </p><p>“Bellamy is one of our finest warriors,” Lexa tells her when Clarke learns she is gaining a new shadow. “He will keep you from harm.”</p><p>(Day Five of #OneYearOfThe100 Week: Favorite Quote In A New Context)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Candle Burns Not For Us

**Author's Note:**

> So you might need a little faith, trust, and pixie dust to buy this AU. Because if Bellamy is a grounder, how the hell did the 100 mostly survive? But let's just roll with it, shall we?
> 
> The title is from a quote by Peter Benenson, founder of Amnesty International.

“Bellamy is one of our finest warriors,” Lexa tells her when Clarke learns she is gaining a new shadow. “He will keep you from harm.”

Clarke doesn’t really know how to respond, so she just says “Thank you,” as she looks between the commander and the stone-faced man who dwarfs her. He is taller than her, taller than nearly everyone, and the soft curls of his hair and the whimsical smattering of freckles across his dark skin belie the harsh lines of his mouth.

She’s not sure what to make of the guard Lexa assigns her. Clarke’s not about to object to the idea of the guard––she has no desire to have her throat slit by another dissenting _Trigedakru_. And her guard’s hulking presence by her side wherever she goes definitely deters the would-be murderers. But she knows she should be focusing on Wells, on praying and hoping that he doesn’t get caught inside of Mount Weather before they get all their people out. And she is. But a little, tiny, absolutely miniscule part of her is distracted by the man.

Sometimes she catches him watching her. Not just the way someone looks at a two-headed deer, which is how he usually seems to look at her at first, but every now and then she really sees him _watching_. She’s noticed it when she’s talking to Monroe and Sterling, the sole survivors of those who didn’t make it inside before the dropship engines ignited. It’s also happened when she’s sitting with Raven next to the silent radio, trying to draw her out of the melancholy she’s fallen into after Finn’s death in the destruction they caused together.

She can’t tell what he’s thinking in those moments––only that he’s thinking _something_ , and it’s something about her.

* * *

One day after a war council meeting, she sees Anya nod at Bellamy, and his nod back as they exit the tent.

“What was that about?” she asks, and only after the words have left her mouth does she realize that it’s the first question she’s ever directed toward him. Before she can retract it, apologize, say something about forgetting questions aren’t part of how they operate, he responds.

“She and my sister trained together,” he says shortly.

Clarke didn’t know he had a sister. She realizes she doesn’t know anything at all about him.

So she starts to collect little tidbits of information. She notices he’s right-handed, and whenever he thinks there’s a threat to her safety his right hand rests on the hilt of his sword while his left hovers at his side, ready to push her out of harm’s way. When she falls into an old trap and he saves her from being impaled on spikes, she notices the callouses on his palm. He prefers boar over panther (who wouldn’t?), but silently hands her the boar if there’s ever not enough for them both.

* * *

“Why did Lexa pick you?” Clarke asks the day she seizes power from her mother and lets Emerson go with an oxygen supply two hours too short. “To be my guard.”

“The commander assigned me to you to keep me occupied,” he says. “Because she knew I would not dishonor us all by letting a weak sky princess get killed.”

“Why do you need to be occupied?” Clarke asks, ignoring the insult and the _princess_ and staring out at the woods in the direction of Mount Weather.

“The mountain men have my sister,” he replies. That surprises Clarke, and it must show when she looks at him, because for once he keeps talking. “She was taken at the same time as Lincoln. But Lincoln says she was taken for the harvest, and they were separated.”

“Do you think she’s––” Clarke stops herself before she finishes the question, but he knows what she meant to say.

“My life didn’t start until Octavia was born,” he says. “And it won’t end until she dies. My heart is still beating. She is still alive inside the mountain.”

Clarke doesn’t think that’s how things work. But though no one’s ever accused her of being very tactful, even she can realize that a sibling bond is something she just doesn’t understand.

* * *

Bellamy’s standing in his usual place beside her as she and Raven listen in on the plans to drop a missile on TonDC.

“You get that?” Wells’s voice crackles over the radio.

“Yeah,” Clarke says. “I got it.”

To Raven, she says, “I’m going.”

Raven sighs and throws her arms around Clarke. “I can’t lose you too,” she whispers. “Don’t get blown up.” She pulls away and addresses Bellamy. “Don’t let her get herself blown up.”

“I won’t,” he says, and both women blink at the sound of his voice, low and dark and dangerous. He’s never voluntarily spoken to any sky person other than Clarke.

* * *

When Lexa tells her to hide herself and run from the missile, she refuses to do so without Bellamy.

“I trust him!” she hisses at the commander. “And so do you! Or why did you assign him to me?”

“I knew he would keep you safe,” Lexa replies in a low voice, “because you are his best chance at getting his sister back from the mountain men alive. Do not confuse his rationality with loyalty.”

Clarke shoves away the little tingles of hurt that run through her at Lexa’s words. Even if they’re true, Bellamy doesn’t deserve to die in TonDC. Nobody deserves to die. Except the mountain men.

“He already knows about the missile,” Clarke argues. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“If he doesn’t die with the missile, I’ll kill him myself,” Lexa says, eyes dark. “No one can know we knew of the attack. The coalition would break apart, and the war will be lost.”

Clarke swears she can feel her heart beating in her skull, she’s so furious. “If you harm him, _I_ will tell _everyone_ that we knew about the missile.”

Clarke can’t believe she’s said it––threatened to destroy the only chance of rescuing their people from the mountain over a grounder who probably doesn’t even like her.

Worse, she can’t believe she meant it.

Lexa’s lips thin into a grim line.

“Very well,” she says finally. “But we must leave _now_.”

Wrapping the length of dark fabric around her head, Clarke peeks out of the commander’s tent to see Bellamy’s broad back standing guard. She reaches out and tugs on the edge of his leather armor, and she’s impressed by the way he hardly reacts, only quietly slipping inside when he gets a chance.

“What?” he asks, and then he really looks at her, taking in the way her golden hair is concealed, the way the commander is waiting impatiently at the back of the tent.

“We need to go,” Clarke whispers. He looks between Clarke and Lexa once more, then nods sharply, and follows close enough for Clarke to feel his warmth as they sneak out of the tent and wind away into the trees.

* * *

“Do you hate me?” she asks the next night. She’s numb all over with cold after killing the sniper.

He is quiet for a long time. Then, “No.”

“So many people have died for this war,” she whispers, watching the smoking rubble and wondering if she’ll ever believe she made the right choice. “How can we say this is worth it?”

“The dead are gone, Clarke,” he says. “The living are hungry.”

Clarke remembers his sister’s name. _Octavia_. The hideous cages she freed Anya from, the stripped and starving bodies of the _Trigedakru_. Her own people, in a much prettier cage but a cage nonetheless.

Then his hand grasps her shoulder, touching her for the first time in a way that isn’t a rescue.

Or maybe it is, Clarke thinks, feeling the heat of his palm sinking through the layers of her clothing to warm her frozen body. Maybe he’s still rescuing her.

She hopes he doesn’t ever stop.  

**Author's Note:**

> My favorite quote featured is, obviously, "The dead are gone, Clarke. The living are hungry." Let's just ignore that in canon Lexa said this to Clarke way before the missile attack, okay? We're changing plenty of other canon stuff for this oneshot: Bellamy's a grounder, Finn died at the dropship, Anya wasn't killed by Camp Jaha, etc. ;) Let me know what you thought!


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